Sorry if that's a disappointment."
She nodded, a little hesitantly, a small smile on her face. I smiled wider and took off the white shirt I was wearing. She frowned at me.
"They get squashed between the material of the shirt and my back, or they shred the material. The tail's all right, it can just slide down my trouser leg, but the wings are too big to fit under my shirt." I scratched at my shoulder as I released my wings. "I only had to ruin a couple of shirts before I worked that one out."
Clarissa's eyes widened. "You know, I think it's easier to pretend you're normal without your wings," she said, and shuddered. "The wings are just a bit much." She tried to smile at me. "Without them, you just look like any normal blond sun-worshipping surfer. Even thought you look critically sunburned."
"So you don't like them, then?" I asked, grinning. I folded them and started to put them away.
"Can I touch them?" she asked quickly, then blushed.
I laughed, walking to the side of the bed. I sat a little closer to her, one foot hanging from the mattress so I was facing her. I folded my left wing around my shoulder, holding it out to her. "Go ahead."
She reached out hesitantly, gently touching the thin membrane between the fingers of my wing. She frowned when she noticed a hole in the red leather. "Don't those bullets hurt you? You're still bleeding from them, slightly." She wiped her hand absently on the shirt she was wearing.
"They're uncomfortable." I shrugged, using the already-bloodstained bandage to mop up the blood dripping lightly down my chest. "When you're starting to heal, I might need your help to pull the bullets out of my arm and chest for me."
She looked panicked for a second.
"You can't hurt me, and the wounds won't heal until the bullets are out." I smiled, pulling the wing back, and flicking my tail out to her. "Be careful, the edge is razor sharp."
"Oh." She looked at my booted foot hanging off the edge of the bed, hesitantly testing the edge of my tail on her finger.
It sliced easily and I sighed. I handed her the bandage to hold to the cut. "As though you need to lose more blood."
She screwed her nose up at me and looked to my feet again.
"No, I don't have hooves, cloven or not." I carefully pulled my tail back from her and loosened the boot. It fell to the floor with a heavy clunking sound. I pulled off the sock and wiggled my toes. It felt good not to wear shoes every now and then, especially with the claws that came with the wings and tail. They weren't just on my fingers, unfortunately.
Clarissa giggled, apparently feeling silly for entertaining the thought of me having hooves. "You don't have the legs of a goat either, do you?"
I shook my head, rolling up the leg of my pants. "Nope. Nothing here but Angel—or human, depending on your logic—legs."
She laughed, then yawned.
"Ah. You need to get some more sleep." I stood up, picking up my boot. "The bathroom's through the door across from here, and I'll be out in the living room if you need me." I smiled, heading to the door and putting my wings and tail away. "If you're up before me, don't worry about making a noise. I sleep like the dead."
I smiled at her and turned the light down to the dimmest setting, closing the door and heading back down the hall. I removed my other boot in the kitchen, leaving them by the front door and throwing my socks into the clothesbasket in the bathroom. I made my impromptu bed on the couch, before heading back into the kitchen.
I cleaned up the saucepans I'd used for dinner, putting them back into the cupboard. I didn't own a dishwasher, as I liked to do the washing-up myself, usually thinking as I did it.
~ * ~
As the dawn rays started to creep though my
She nodded, a little hesitantly, a small smile on her face. I smiled wider and took off the white shirt I was wearing. She frowned at me.
"They get squashed between the material of the shirt and my back, or they shred the material. The tail's all right, it can just slide down my trouser leg, but the wings are too big to fit under my shirt." I scratched at my shoulder as I released my wings. "I only had to ruin a couple of shirts before I worked that one out."
Clarissa's eyes widened. "You know, I think it's easier to pretend you're normal without your wings," she said, and shuddered. "The wings are just a bit much." She tried to smile at me. "Without them, you just look like any normal blond sun-worshipping surfer. Even thought you look critically sunburned."
"So you don't like them, then?" I asked, grinning. I folded them and started to put them away.
"Can I touch them?" she asked quickly, then blushed.
I laughed, walking to the side of the bed. I sat a little closer to her, one foot hanging from the mattress so I was facing her. I folded my left wing around my shoulder, holding it out to her. "Go ahead."
She reached out hesitantly, gently touching the thin membrane between the fingers of my wing. She frowned when she noticed a hole in the red leather. "Don't those bullets hurt you? You're still bleeding from them, slightly." She wiped her hand absently on the shirt she was wearing.
"They're uncomfortable." I shrugged, using the already-bloodstained bandage to mop up the blood dripping lightly down my chest. "When you're starting to heal, I might need your help to pull the bullets out of my arm and chest for me."
She looked panicked for a second.
"You can't hurt me, and the wounds won't heal until the bullets are out." I smiled, pulling the wing back, and flicking my tail out to her. "Be careful, the edge is razor sharp."
"Oh." She looked at my booted foot hanging off the edge of the bed, hesitantly testing the edge of my tail on her finger.
It sliced easily and I sighed. I handed her the bandage to hold to the cut. "As though you need to lose more blood."
She screwed her nose up at me and looked to my feet again.
"No, I don't have hooves, cloven or not." I carefully pulled my tail back from her and loosened the boot. It fell to the floor with a heavy clunking sound. I pulled off the sock and wiggled my toes. It felt good not to wear shoes every now and then, especially with the claws that came with the wings and tail. They weren't just on my fingers, unfortunately.
Clarissa giggled, apparently feeling silly for entertaining the thought of me having hooves. "You don't have the legs of a goat either, do you?"
I shook my head, rolling up the leg of my pants. "Nope. Nothing here but Angel—or human, depending on your logic—legs."
She laughed, then yawned.
"Ah. You need to get some more sleep." I stood up, picking up my boot. "The bathroom's through the door across from here, and I'll be out in the living room if you need me." I smiled, heading to the door and putting my wings and tail away. "If you're up before me, don't worry about making a noise. I sleep like the dead."
I smiled at her and turned the light down to the dimmest setting, closing the door and heading back down the hall. I removed my other boot in the kitchen, leaving them by the front door and throwing my socks into the clothesbasket in the bathroom. I made my impromptu bed on the couch, before heading back into the kitchen.
I cleaned up the saucepans I'd used for dinner, putting them back into the cupboard. I didn't own a dishwasher, as I liked to do the washing-up myself, usually thinking as I did it.
~ * ~
As the dawn rays started to creep though my
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